In a foreign land I religiously observe
Native custom of antiquity:
I'm releasing the bird into the wild
On the bright holiday of spring.
I became available for consolation;
Why should I grumble at God?
When at least one creation
I could give freedom!

Design

Here: I hear it, but I don’t hear the words,
Here it is: it’s getting closer and suddenly it’s getting dark...
But I know, from the field - or from above -
Is that sound from the heart...
- Forward to the fiery torment! —
In the waves of sheep's fleece
I raise my hands to the sky -
How - in ancient times - a girl alone...

Yara Win

@yairpvt